


The Emptiness in Loyalty

by Meextraordinaire



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Gen, Just some hopeful character speculations, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 13:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meextraordinaire/pseuds/Meextraordinaire
Summary: The Vollstrecker had visited Krimberger Asylum three times before. The first two times she had come to see him, and eventually left angry and grieving. The third time she is confronted with silence, and she leaves with determination.





	The Emptiness in Loyalty

The abandoned halls of Krimberger Asylum were dimly illuminated by the few hooded lanterns. Shadows flashed on the walls, dancing around the reflection of the candlelight. A soft humming echoed through the halls, originating from one of the patient rooms, an old song mocking the Julous Dominion. The female voice wasn’t aware of the cloaked person that halted their shuffled pace when they heard and recognized the melody.

Astrid had only been in this building two times before, and both times she had left with clenched fists and barely choked back tears. But a letter from Eodwulf arriving on her desk a day ago had made her head back to the place that seemed to be calling her for one last time.

Once, she would have looked at the name card on the singing woman’s door. She would have fantasized about what happened to the woman and how she got in this special wing in this somber, suffocating place in the capital. Where her friends loved and trusted logic and provable facts, she used her instincts to guide herself. But nowadays her heart she used to follow was unreliable.

She postponed the upcoming confrontation with cold silences for a few seconds longer by listening to the arrhythmic tune. The song fell silent as she passed the door, but Astrid had already forgotten about the singer.

She gathered her strength as she placed her hand on the handle of the now nameless door. The creaking tore through the silence, and the dark room was emptier than she imagined. “Bren?” she whispered, as if the news they had brought her was despite all odds a lie. She didn’t know if a response would have made her relieved or sad.

She walked into the simple room, barely more than a prison cell. It had already been cleaned, the smell of scorched wood and fabric chased away by a stinging disinfectant. The bed was made and there were no untouched books on the nightstand. It was just like no one had been living here for the past eleven years.

As the female would-be bard started singing again, Astrid’s thoughts went back to the first time she had visited Bren in his asylum. It was only two days after Eodwulf tore a dagger through his father’s chest in the midst of a discussion about the Dwendalian army after she put a bottle of Midnight Tears in her parents’ food, and after she watched the man she loved crumble to the ground, mouth agape in horror.

It was his first day in Krimberger, and he was sitting next to her on that bed that shouldn’t be his, curled up with his knees to his chest and not reacting to her voice.

“Bren, talk to me,” she had pleaded, trying not to yell at him, trying not to show him bits of the underlying bitterness and fury that had kept her up all night. 

But Bren kept his eyes closed, ignoring her and her unspoken reproaches. When she grabbed his hand, desperately trying to get him to acknowledge her, it was warm and scorched. After her visit, the doctor would tell her that Bren had spent that entire night silently watching the flames coming out of his hand.

Astrid felt bad for him. She did. She felt the feelings of overwhelming guilt that tried to crawl their way up her throat as well, and even though she couldn’t fully understand Bren’s extremely violent reaction, she would never agree with master Ikithon and Eodwulf’s whole “life is not for the weak” mentality. There was a place in this world for weak people, and there had to be a place for Bren as well, even after failing his task.

For almost an hour, she sat at his side and tried to talk with him. She told stories about their childhood in Blumenthal and about the little secret trips they made with Eodwulf during the beginning of their time under master Ikithon’s tutelage.

Eventually, she ran out of patience and snapped. The memory of what she said was fuzzy, an unimportant hurtful thing that was overpowered the moment Bren opened his eyes. The fire that killed his parents and broke his mind was still there. The usually confident and friendly light was replaced by two blazing embers with which he tore right through Astrid. “Get out,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, telling the tale of someone who spent hours screaming at the gods. 

Astrid left. What else could she do? Her friend was hurt, and he needed time to recover. She could give him that. Maybe she could even wait.

When she told master Ikithon where she’d been, he told her not to go again. Astrid knew there was no use in protesting, so she bit on her lip and bowed her head.

The sound of footsteps outside the door brought her right back to the sober room. Instinctively, she muttered a few incantations and magic swirled around her fingers as she held a spell. But it fizzled out when she saw a sturdy woman in Krimberger’s blue and white uniform enter. 

“Miss Brugge?” the woman stuttered in surprise. Astrid vaguely recognized her, having met her only one time before.

“Doctor… Storm, was it?”

“Um, Strom.” She seemed to be at a complete lack of words, and Astrid tried to think of a quick solution to this situation. If this woman would tell she had been here tonight… There would be consequences. “Miss, what are you doing here at this late hour? You can’t be here.” Trying not to lose eye contact with the young woman in front of her, the doctor quickly glanced out of the door for any approaching people and then carefully closed it. “If mister Ikithon knew you’re here…”

“I know. I just needed to be sure.” She couldn’t repress a soft sigh.

“He’s gone, miss. I’m sorry.”

“How?”

“We’re not sure. One moment, he was his usual self, staring in the distance, and then suddenly he attacked one of my colleagues and killed the guard that was posted at his door.”

“And he was just… gone.”

“‘M afraid so, miss.”

Astrid pressed her nails into the palms of her hands, clenching them into tight fists to stop them from shaking. She glanced one last time at the abandoned bed, then turned her back to the old furniture.  
The second time she visited was even more agonizing. It was one day before she left Rexxentrum, before the start of a new mission that required her to stay in Bladegarden for a long time. She was twenty-two and defied direct orders just to see Bren one last time. That was the day she was sure she had lost him. Because when he looked at her, it wasn’t with love, or with anger. No. That burning hatred at the world was gone, and only a little bit of subconscious smoldering self-loathing was left.

He was a husk, a breathing reminder of all the things they could have had but that died in the fire. That man did not have the spirit to fight and run. He was as broken as the world once had been, as dead as their parents.

So what had changed? What made an extinguished soul return and flare up a spark of hope in Astrid’s heart again for the first time in a lot of lonely years?

“I’m going to find him,” she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to the doctor. The woman just looked at her with an apologetic smile.

“Don’t make any promises for a lost man, miss. It won’t end well.” Her eyes wandered through the room, perhaps thinking about the man that left this empty room and this empty young woman. Then the doctor clicked her tongue and made a gesture to the door with her head. “Alright, miss. Visiting hours are over. It’s time for you to go.”

Astrid locked eyes with her, grabbing her by the sleeve. “You won’t tell anyone I was here?”

Doctor Strom hesitated but nodded. “I know nothing.”

Astrid slipped out of the room, walking as fast out of the asylum as she could. Outside, she breathed in the fresh night air, relieved to not be confined in those narrow halls anymore. She looked up at the stars and tried not to think of the night Bren told her the name of all the constellations that belonged to every star she could point at.

That past was gone. It choked on poison and disappeared in flames.

But now there was a future she could look forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever written something for a fandom, but I recently finished Critical Role and I'm in love. Also, addicted. Anyway, I had some late-night inspiration and this drabble is the result. I don't know if I'll write more fan fiction, but this was a fun little evening project.  
> I'm not a native speaker and it's 1 AM over here, so please forgive me for any mistakes.
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> XxX  
> May


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